fell from her obedient mouth. Chang was so happy to hear this that he gave the fortune-teller a big tip. Baby Uncle went to a fortune-teller in the Mouth of the Mountain, an old lady with a face more wrinkled than her palm. She saw nothing but calamity. The first sign was the mole on Precious Auntie's face. It was in position twelve, she told Baby Uncle, and it dragged the girl's mouth down, meaning that her life would always bring her sadness. What's more, she was a fire Rooster, and he a wood Horse, and the combina- tion of birth years was inharmonious. The girl would ride his back and peck him apart piece by piece. The fortune- teller confided to Baby Uncle that she knew the girl quite well. She often saw her on market days, walking by her- self; the girl did fast calculations in her head and argued with merchants. She was arrogant and headstrong, too educated Better find another match, the fortune-teller said. This one will lead to disaster. Baby Uncle gave the fortune-teller more money, to make her think harder. The fortune-teller kept shaking her head. But after Baby Uncle had given her a total of a thousand coppers, the old lady finally had another thought. When the girl smiled, which was often, her mole was in a luckier position, num- ber eleven. The fortune-teller consulted an almanac, matched it to the hour of the girl's birth. Good news. The Hour of the Rabbit was peace-loving. Her inflexibility was just a bluff And any leftover righteousness could be beaten down with a strong stick. "But don't marry in the Dragon Year. Bad year for H " a orse. The first marrIage proposal came from Chang's matchmaker, who went to the bonesetter and related the good omens. The matchmaker boasted of the coffin-maker's standing, as an artisan descended from noted artisans. She de- scribed his house, his rock gardens, his fish ponds, the furniture in his many rooms, how the wood was of the best color, purple like a fresh bruise. As to the matter of a dowry; the coffin-maker was willing to be more than generous. Since the girl was to be a second wife and not a first, couldn't her dowry be a jar of opium and a jar of dragon bones? This was not much, yet it was priceless, and therefore not insulting to the girl. The bonesetter considered the offer. He was growing old. Where would his daughter go when he died? What man would want her? She was too spirited, too set in her ways. She had no mother to teach her the manners of a wife. True, the coffin-maker was not the boneset- ter's first choice for a son-in-law, but he did not want to stand in the way of his daughter's future happiness. So he told Precious Auntie about Chang's gener- ous offer. Precious Auntie huffed. "The man's a brute," she said. "I'd rather eat worms than be his wife." The bonesetter had to give Chang's matchmaker an awkward answer. "I'm sorry," he said, "but my daughter cried herself sick, unable to bear the thought of leaving her worthless father." The lie would have been swallowed with- out disgrace, if only Baby Uncle's of- fer had not been accepted the follow- ing week. A few days after the betrothal was announced, the coffin-maker went back to the Mouth of the Mountain and surprised Precious Auntie as she was returning from the well. "You think you can insult me, then walk away laughing?" "Who insulted whom? You asked me to be your concubine, a servant to your wife. I'm not interested in being a slave in a feudal marriage." As she tried to leave, Chang grabbed her by the neck, pinched it, saying he should break it, then shook her as if he truly might snap off her head like a win- ter twig. But instead he threw her to the ground, cursing her and her dead mother's private parts. And he said these words, which she never forgot: "You'll soon be sorry every day of your miser- able life." Precious Auntie did not tell her fa- ther or her beloved Baby Uncle what had happened. No sense in worrying them. And why lead her furore hus- band to wonder if Chang had reason to feel insulted? Too many people had said she was too strong, accustomed to having her own wa And perhaps this was true. A month before the wedding, Baby Uncle came to her room late at night. "I want to hear your voice in the dark," he whispered. "I want to hear the language 138 THE NEW YORKER, DECEMBER 25, 2000 & JANUARY I, 2001 of shooting stars." She let him into her kang and he eagerly began the nuptials. But as Baby Uncle caressed her, a wInd blew over her skin and she began to tremble and shake. For the first time, she realized, she was afraid, frightened by unknown jo T he wedding was supposed to take place in the Liu family compound in Immortal Heart. It was soon after the start of the New Year, a bare spring da For the journey there from Mouth of the Mountain, Precious Auntie changed her clothes to her bridal cos- tume-a red jacket and skirt, the fancy headdress with a scarf that she had to drape over her face once she left her fa- ther,s home. For the journey, the bone- setter had procured only the best for his daughter: an enclosed sedan chair for the bride herse four sedan carriers, two men with carts, a flute player, and two of the strongest bodyguards, with real pis- tols and gunpowder, to watch out for bandits. In one of the carts was the dowry-the jar of opium and the jar of dragon bones, the last of his suppl He assured his daughter many times that she need not worry about the cost. Mter her wedding, he could go to the Mon- key's Jaw and gather more bones. Halfway to Immortal Heart, two bandits wearing hoods sprang out of the bushes. "I'm the famous Mongol Ban- dit!" one of them bellowed. Right away, Precious Auntie recognized the voice of Chang the coffin-maker. What kind of ridiculous joke was this? But before she could say anything, the guards threw down their pistols, the carriers dropped their poles, and Precious Auntie was thrown to the floor of the sedan and knocked out. When she came to, Baby Uncle was lifting her out of the sedan. She looked around and saw that the wedding trunks had been ransacked and that the guards and carriers had fled. And then she noticed her father lying in a ditch, his head and neck at an odd angle, the life gone from his face. Was she in a dream? "My father," she moaned. As she bent over the body, unable to make sense of what had happened, Baby Uncle picked up a pistol that one of the guards had dropped. "I swear I'll find the demons who caused my bride so much grief!" he